


Flufftember #1

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26335927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Flufftember prompts:Barisi - Date mishaps, first kiss(The 'date mishaps' bit is a stretch, I'm sorry - hopefully this is okay, though)
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 118
Collections: Flufftember 2020





	Flufftember #1

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you you’re gonna do fine.”

Barba smiled. “A little reassurance never hurts.” He paused. “Thank you. For…” He gestured toward the files on the table. “The fresh set of eyes.”

“The use of my brilliant legal mind?” Carisi suggested, one dimple flashing as he smiled crookedly.

“Glad to see the new job isn’t going to your head,” Barba returned with a raised brow, and Carisi laughed. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Carisi felt a flutter of hope, and he tried not to sound too eager when he answered: “Not really. You got something else?”

Barba leaned back in his chair and scratched at his forehead. “No, not work-related,” he said. He seemed suddenly uncomfortable, nervous. “I was wondering if I could ask your advice on something a little more...personal.”

Carisi put his elbows on Barba’s kitchen table, his forehead knitting in concern at the other man’s discomfort. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I, um.” Barba paused, running his hand over the back of his neck. Carisi tried not to stare at the way the movement stretched the t-shirt over his bicep. Carisi had never seen Barba in a t-shirt before, and he’d been fighting his urge to stare for most of the past hour. “You’ve been seeing someone, right?”

Carisi ignored the flutter in his stomach. “Oh, that’s over,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. “I mean, we broke up.”

“My point is, you know how to date.”

Carisi blinked, frowning in confusion. “How to date?”

“Right. You...date people.” 

“Sure,” Carisi said, drawing the word out as he tried to make sense of what Barba was asking. Barba shifted, clearly uncomfortable, and Carisi thought he saw a hint of color staining the other man’s cheeks. “Are you...asking me for _dating advice_?” he finally asked, doing his best to tamp down the rush of disappointment. 

“Relationships have never been...I’ve never had much time for dating.”

“You have to make time.”

“Right, well. Dating was never a priority.”

“Hit it and quit it guy, huh?” Carisi asked. He felt a little ill. 

Barba glared at him. “Charming. But sure, I’m not a monk if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m not,” Carisi said before he could stop himself. He wasn’t proud of the jealousy churning in his gut, and he drew a breath to center himself. Barba was his friend and colleague. Carisi wasn’t going to jeopardize either of those things because he’d been foolish enough to hope for more. “I mean, your sex life is your business. But something musta changed?”

“Maybe...I met someone who makes me want to make dating a priority.”

Carisi managed a smile. “I’m happy for you,” he said, and he mostly meant it. Barba deserved some good in his life. “So, what do you want to know?”

“If I were going to invite someone to, say, have dinner here—”

“Your apartment? For a first date?”

Barba hesitated. “Is that not okay?”

“Oh, I mean. Sure, yeah. I was just surprised. If you’re more comfortable at home—”

“But if someone asked you to their place for a first date, would you think that was weird? Or, I don’t know. Creepy?”

“You definitely don’t give off a _creep_ vibe, Rafael,” Carisi laughed. “Is this a stranger or someone you know?”

“A...colleague.”

“Okay, good, then I’d just assume you were looking for intimacy.”

Barba swallowed. “Intimacy?”

Carisi smiled. “Not like that. I mean, like...this,” he said, waving a hand across the table between them. “Quiet, just the two of us having dinner, talking, whatever.” He was glad to see some of the tension leave Barba’s shoulders. “It’s a good thing. You planning on cooking or ordering in?”

Barba pointed a finger toward the stove, where a pot of something was sitting on a cold back burner. “Unfortunately my culinary skills are limited. Mostly Cuban dishes my grandmother taught me.”

Carisi looked from the stove back to Barba’s face. “Wait, you’re cooking for the date _now_?”

“Trying. I believe your exact words when you got here were ‘is something burning?’”

“I mean, it’s tonight?”

“I doubt I have time to start from scratch. I guess I should’ve planned on ordering.”

“Well, if he’s interested in you, it’ll mean something to him that you made something from a family recipe. Or tried. You should’ve said something, we could’ve wrapped this up a while ago if I knew you had plans.” Carisi got up, and Barba looked a bit alarmed at the prospect of being left alone. He really was nervous about the date. It was sweet, even if it hurt that it was with someone else.

“What’re you doing?” Barba asked, pushing to his feet as Carisi headed toward the kitchen instead of grabbing his things to leave.

“I feel bad for interrupting your prep.”

“I asked you to come consult.” 

“I’m gonna help you.” Carisi started opening cupboards, taking quick stock of Barba’s supplies. “Just don’t tell my grandma I used sauce from a jar,” he said as he started pulling items to set on the counter.

“You don’t have to do that—I can just order something.”

“It’s no trouble, honest,” Carisi said. It would give him a welcome distraction, and if he took his time then maybe he’d be able to get a glimpse of Barba’s date on the way out. “This won’t take long. I can handle it if you need to change or anything.”

“Change?”

Carisi glanced back. “You’re not wearing that for the date?”

Barba looked down at himself with a frown. “Oh. What...should I wear for a date in my own apartment?”

Carisi turned his attention back to his task, fetching a pot and carrying it to the sink to fill with water. “I’m not saying it’s not a good look. I’m sure he’d be into it. But maybe something a little less casual?”

“Tux?”

Carisi laughed. “Maybe khakis and a white button-up? You look good in white.”

There was a long pause. “ _Khakis_?” 

Carisi laughed again at the disdain in the other man’s voice. “You look good in khakis, too. You asked for my advice, take it or leave it.”

“Should I shave, do you think?” 

Carisi set the pot of water on the stove and added olive oil. “Not in my opinion,” he said as casually as he could manage. 

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“I really don’t mind,” Carisi said, turning to face him. “Now go get ready and quit distracting me if you want dinner ready before your date shows up. How long do I have?”

“I planned on seven for dinner.”

“You gonna shower?”

“Should I?”

“Are you planning on sleeping with him?”

“Eventually. Hopefully. But not tonight, no.”

Carisi smiled. “Jeez, you really do like this guy, huh? Good for you, Raf.” He turned back to the stove so his face wouldn’t give too much away. “And good for him.” He could feel Barba hesitating, so he added, “I’ve got this covered, go get ready.”

“Alright, well...help yourself to whatever.”

Carisi chuckled, because he hadn’t exactly waited for permission. “Thanks.”

“I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Carisi glanced back as Barba disappeared into the bedroom. When he was sure he was alone in the kitchen, he took a moment to close his eyes and breathe, getting his emotions under control. He ran a hand through his hair, reminding himself that Barba was his friend, and that he would probably never be anything more. If there’d been a window of opportunity, Carisi had missed it. 

So, as a friend, he set about making dinner for Barba and his mystery guy. It might not be something from Barba’s Cuban grandmother—or even something that would strictly be approved by Carisi’s own Italian grandmother—but it would serve its purpose. The rest would be up to Barba.

“Tucked or untucked?”

Carisi turned to find Barba in khakis and a white, untucked shirt. He suddenly wished he’d helped himself to some of Barba’s liquor. “Tuck it in but open another button at the top. And roll up your sleeves.” Carisi smiled as he watched Barba silently obey. “I could get used to this. Bossing you around.”

“Funny,” Barba said. 

“This is almost done. I can probably leave you to it, just let the sauce simmer for a few more minutes.”

“What do people talk about on dates?”

“I don’t know. Find out what the other person’s interests are? You know what he likes?”

“Sports?”

“Hmm. Not your strong suit.”

“Thank you, yes.”

“You said you’re colleagues.”

Barba grimaced. “Talk about work?”

“Probably not. Well, ask about his family. Favorite books, music. You know, smalltalk. Your instincts’ll kick in.”

“Is it weird to buy flowers? Do people still do that?”

“Flowers?” Carisi asked, surprised. “I don’t think you’ll have time to have flowers delivered.”

“But is that a normal thing? To do for a guy?”

Carisi considered. “No one’s ever bought me flowers for a date,” he finally said. “But if they did, I’d prolly be half in love before the date even started. And half out of my clothes,” he added, hoping to get a laugh. 

Barba smiled. “Hold that thought,” he said, turning to disappear back into the bedroom. He reappeared within moments, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Carisi’s heart stumbled in his chest, and he had to remind himself that the flowers were not for him, the outfit wasn’t for him, the date wasn’t his. It was difficult, as Barba crossed toward him, to resist the urge to blurt out inappropriate questions. It didn’t matter what might happen if Carisi begged Barba to cancel his date and have dinner with him, instead. It didn’t matter because Carisi wasn’t going to ruin Barba’s night by being selfish.

“You can keep your clothes on.”

Carisi smiled dutifully at the joke. “I’ll try.”

“So…” Barba stopped in front of him. Too close; Carisi could smell his cologne, and it made him want to bury his face in Barba’s neck. “We already talked about family, earlier. What’s your favorite book?”

“I...Huh? Oh. Are you practicing?”

Barba sighed and held out the flowers. “These are for you. The burned _ropa vieja_ was supposed to be for you, but I certainly didn’t intend for you to end up cooking.”

Carisi took the flowers automatically, but he was struggling to catch up. “What?”

“This seemed like a better idea…” Barba muttered. He gave his head a little shake and stepped closer. “Sonny,” he said, holding Carisi’s confused stare, “I don’t know how to do this. The whole...intimacy thing you were talking about. Dating. But I want to. With you. If you’re interested, I’m willing to—”

Carisi kissed him. Barba made a small sound of surprise, reaching out to touch the other man’s shirt, but Carisi was already pulling back. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve asked.”

Barba cleared his throat. “Is that a yes? To a date?”

Carisi’s face split into a grin. “Yeah. I’m glad I don’t have to wait outside and kneecap some guy.”

Barba smiled and leaned up to brush his lips against Carisi’s, searching his face before kissing him again. The bouquet crinkled as Carisi slipped an arm around Barba’s waist to pull him closer, and Barba’s parted lips were all the invitation Carisi needed to lick his way inside. Barba hummed his approval, reaching up to snake his fingers into Carisi’s hair, but he pulled back a moment later. 

“Sonny.”

Carisi blinked, looking dazed. 

“I think the sauce is burning.”


End file.
